That's What Friends Are For
by chiasypee
Summary: Kim drowns her sorrows in the hard-partying life. Cue Shego.
1. That's What Friends Are For

She felt great. She felt happy. She had never felt more… _alive_. Not since before… no. She didn't want to think about it… to think about _him_. That was why she came here, after all. To distract herself. At this rate, she'd _never_ have to go back to her now-empty home.

The hours flew by. Her mouth was dry, her eyes unfocussed, her movements sloppy and spasmodic. A dozen people were squished against her, alternately grinding and elbowing her in their own personal trances. Trying to forget their own personal tragedies? She could barely see across the packed room for the rapid strobe lights flashing in the dimness. Her head was thumping in time to the blaring music. Or was that her heart? It didn't matter. Nothing mattered but the Now. _Especially_ not the past.

Kim shrugged off the heavy hand on her shoulder. Ignored the insistent yell in her ear. Tried to fight off the strong arms suddenly coiled around her waist, tugging her away from the crowd, away from the music…

…And into a toilet.

The sound muffled considerably once Shego shut the door. Kim was still struggling. She was a comical sight, waving off hands that were no longer pulling her. Shego took a deep breath, directed her eyes toward the heavens. _God, give me strength_.

"Kimmie."

The girl didn't answer. Shego snapped her fingers in front of Kim's dulled eyes.

"Kimmie."

"Whuh…" grunted Kim. Who the hell was this? Who the hell dared to drag the famous Kim Possible, rising star of GJ, out of the music? She squinted at the fool. Green and… green and black… and sallow skin… _Hey_…

"Shuh…She…"

"Alright, alright, don't hurt yourself trying…"

Kim blinked slowly before bursting into a hacking laugh. "You always wuz a funny one…"

The hero lurched about, her heels tapping an unsteady rhythm into the tiled floor. Shego reached out and grabbed the girl firmly by her shoulders, stilling her. "Cupcake, where are your friends? Are you here alone?"

"Aw, don't be silly… They don't know I'm here!" A fresh wave of mischievous laughter reverberated around the walls. "I needed to get… to get some alone time with my boy, Ronald…" Kim looked around in a stupor. "Ron? Where you at, sweetheart? Where…" Her voice grew frantic. "No, no, no, he isn't _dead_, Shego, he isn't dead… He's here somewhere, I saw him, I… Ron? Ron! Ron, where—"

"Hush," hissed Shego, her hand pressed against Kim's mouth. She waited until Kim had calmed down slightly before releasing her. "You're drunk."

"Nooo, I'm not…" giggled Kim.

"Yes, you are."

"Nooo…" Kim trailed off, suddenly looking a lot more… serious… than she had a second ago. Her fingers lightly stroked Shego's forearm as she leant in slowly, eyes half-closed, her mouth soft and seeking and inviting and—

"You're drunk," declared Shego once again, her palm gently deflecting Kim's advancing lips. "I'm taking you home."

Kimmie's brow furrowed like blood blossoming from a bullet wound in a chef's double-breasted jacket. She clenched her fists feebly. "I'm nuh…I'm not going back! You can't make me! It's dark and empty and he's gone and…" She began to sob. Quietly at first, but slowly increasing in volume. "He's gone and it's all my fault! It's all…"

Shego sighed. "No, it wasn't."

"Y-yes it was! If I had just– just… reached him in time… I coulda…"

"You couldn't… look at me. _Look_ at me." Shego brought her hands up to Kim's head, forcing it in her direction. "It was _not_ your fault. You _couldn't_ have reached him in time."

Kim stared up at Shego right then, her body still wavering slightly. Shego's eyes captivated hers, trapped them. She couldn't look away. "I don't wanna go home, Shego," she whined. "I can't… I can't take…" Her eyes glistened with fresh tears.

This was pathetic…

This was a _friend_.

Another sigh. "Alright, pumpkin. You can crash at my place for the night."

Kim was still sniffling. "You mean it—"

"_Don't_ make me regret this." Her words were harsh, but her tone, gentle. Well, gentle for Shego, anyway. "I better not wake up to find you clinging onto me," she warned. Their eyes were still locked. Shego's gaze was steadfast, and deep, and soulful… almost _tender_. Maybe Kim would have noticed if she hadn't been so sloshed out of her mind.

But, even drunk, Kim could tell _something_ was happening. _Something_ was passing through the air. The winds of change, perhaps. A paralysing fear soon overcome, a gaping hole soon filled. She cleared her throat and looked away. The moment passed. Forcing sobriety into her voice: "Thank you, Shego."

"You're welcome, pumpkin. That's… that's what _friends_ are for."

* * *

Man, I do have a thing for depressing fics, don't I!


	2. Out With The Old

Yes, it is true. Rejoice, my children! I'm baaaaaack! :))) And ,ohoh, update of my life: I think I'm going to the states for art school. I'm, um, not sure where exactly Delaware is, but I'll figure it out.

So I wasn't planning on writing a sequel to this, but reading it over made me think it deserved one. I know, I know, I marked it complete. That's what you get for not having a Plot Plan: Uncertainty and contradictions :/ Aaanyway, it seems to me this story's ripe for continuation, so that's just what I'll do. Don't hold your breath or anything, though. While plot bunnies hit me in the head often, the same bunny's appearance is inversely proportionate to the no. of times it comes. (Case in point: 'Cave In', which I swear I'll try to write after this!)

Thanks, as always, ffordesoon, for checking this one :)

* * *

The house loomed over the two of them ominously as they got out of the car. Kim stood just next to her open car door, paralysed with feeling. Superficially, nothing had changed. The lawn was still well-trimmed, the welcome mat red and worn, the knee-high laughing Buddha statue Ron had gotten from Japan still smirking at all passers-by next to the front door. And yet, somehow, in all the… the _intangible_ ways that mattered, something was missing. Something was w**ron**g.

Kim started at the warm hand that had slipped into hers. She flashed a tired smile at Shego and exhaled a long-held breath.

"You ready?"

She nodded once, nervously picking at the empty duffel bag at her shoulder.

The key was cool to the touch, and smooth. Months of fingers rubbing against its bronze surface had left it worn and comfortingly dull, like the erosion of old stone by rain. So far so good. She slid it into the keyhole and turned, pulling the door open as she did so.

A wave of old air gently assaulted the both of them. Nacos and herbal essence shampoo and… was that overripe fruit?! _Hrmmm_. The silence was all-pervasive inside. It dug into one's ear and magnified every other sensation. Kim could feel the soft cotton of her borrowed shirt rasping against her shoulders, shifting as she shifted.

"So," enunciated Shego as she stalked inside. "This is the famous Stoppable home, eh? Where miracles are said to happen?" _Man_, those Kabuki masks were creepy. They were arranged on the far wall so that they formed a huge smiley face._ I guess it's true that there's no accounting for taste. Well… there is in this case: the buffoon._

"That's just a marketing slogan they came up with. This place? 100% miracle-free." Kim absentmindedly flicked some errant dust off the spartan clock on the wall. Had it been that long since she last cleaned house? The days (and nights) before Shego picked her up at that club three days ago were blurry with temulence. Well, it didn't matter. She didn't live here anymore. The place was swimming with painfully perfect memories of things – people – she was not strong enough to withstand remembering.

Shego raised an eyebrow at the poster adorning the wall beside the staircase. "Really, Kimmie? This barely even looks like you! And I'm pretty sure that isn't _your_ wedding dress."

"Those artists did the best they could at such short notice! Ron didn't tell _anyone_ that he was planning on propo— wait. You know what my wedding dress looks like?"

She snorted. "Doy. Your ceremony pictures were on the cover of practically _every_ gossip magazine this side of the _world_ the day after. And besides, you get your kicks from thwarting Drakken, while I get paid to help him. That entails knowing where you are, when, and with whom at all times. And I mean _all_ _times_." Shego waggled her eyebrows in jokey suggestion.

Kim looked skeptically at the villain. "Then how come it was always so easy to get to you and foil your evil plans?"

"Let's put it this way, cupcake: I enjoy brawling with you, and just because I know where you are doesn't mean I have to _do_ something about it."

The smirk emerging on Kim's face matched the one already on Shego's. She shook her head in bemusement before walking up the stairs. "Alright, I'm going to go pack."

Shego, distracted by the softness of the couch she'd just found and the huge plasma screen across her, barely paid her heed. "Yeah, sure. Whatever. I'll just wait here."

Her room was just the way she'd left it; clean and cool and smelling distinctly of both her and her late husband. She began stuffing clothes and underthings and other essentials into the duffel bag. Her hand hovered over a picture of the both of them on her bedside table, taken at the summit of Mount Everest. Ron was grinning madly, his light hair glinting and ruffling in the wind. Kim had her heavily-insulated arms around his neck, her face equally happy. Her red hair swirled around the both of them in a frozen tempest. That trip had been _unforgettable_. Right before the picture, Ron… Ron _proposed_. She stifled a sniffle.

"Kimmie, what's taking— _Whoa_!" Shego stumbled. The stench of overripe fruit was even stronger here. _Ew_. She snorted a few times to get the odour as far away from her nostrils as possible and tried her hardest not to run out of the room.

"Huh? You wanted something?" Kim hurriedly wiped her eyes and looked up in time to see her friend rush hurriedly out the door.

"Oh, um… yeah, I just wanted to check if you were ready to go. I'll just— I'm gonna wait in the car, y'know, give you a little time…" Holy _crap_, that was rank!

Kim smiled. Shego was so _thoughtful_. She gazed sadly at the picture once more before placing it carefully in the bag. "I'm going to miss this place," she breathed out in a sigh of nostalgia. The girl took one last look at her old room, at the perfect life she had built with Ron, and walked out.

Shego was leaning against the hood of her car, her arms crossed by default. Pleasant images of a swashbuckling Shego swooping across a pirate ship and scooping a scantily-clad Kimmie into her arms away from rowdy, rapacious brigands danced across her imagination.

She wasn't sure why she had agreed to do this. To come here with her old nemesis. To their old… well, love-nest. Hell, why was she letting Kim stay with her? Did she really think she had a shot with the girl now that the buffoon was gone? _Straight is straight is straight_, she thought bitterly. And then promptly returned to daydreaming about the pumpkin.

That was the thing with Kimmie. She was like a… a _drug_. Once you thought about her, you couldn't. Ever. Stop.

The Kimmie in Shego's imaginings, dressed in coconuts and a grass skirt, had just swooned theatrically into Shego's arms with a tempestuous sigh and a glut of lustful proclamations when—

"Shego?" She blinked at the tapered fingers waggling right smack in the middle of her visual field. Oops. "Eh, sorry about that. I was just… heh, daydreaming."

"S'all good. Anyway, I'm done. You wanna motor?"

The silence in the car wasn't awkward in the least. Kim tried to distract herself with the suggestively poofy clouds dotting the clear sky. It was between imagining pictures out of the clouds and thinking about Ron. Kim chose the clouds.

"So, uh… how long d'you think you'll be staying?"

Kim gave a start. "Oh! I hadn't realised you— um, I could probably shack up with a friend by the end of the week if I called her today. I didn't… I just figured you didn't mind me staying—"

"'Course I don't, princess." She glanced at her. "You thought I was— ? I didn't mean I didn't _want_ you to stay…" They both chuckled uncomfortably. "I just thought maybe you'd prefer to lodge with one of your– your _buddies_ instead of— well, you know. I make a living out of _beating you up_ and all, so…"

All Kim could muster in response to that humorous jab was a wan half-smile. "I haven't really been in a socialising mood lately. Well… try the past _six_ _months_. All my friends are Ron's friends – _were_ Ron's friends, in any case. And all they've had to offer since his funeral are pity-stares when they think I'm not looking and whispered conversations about us when they think I'm not listening."

Shego gasped melodramatically. "You mean to say… you're _not_ with me because of my _winning_ _personality_?!"

Kim burst out giggling. "Oh, you mean your sarcasm and apathy to all things worth a damn and mockery and demeaning pet names? You're right – I think I'm going to call my friend."

They bantered back and forth the rest of the trip. By the time Shego reversed into her designated parking space, Kim was laughing and smiling like a normal… whatever she was. Shego just congratulated herself on her subtlety and tried her hardest not to think about the irony of making the princess happy now while, on the job, she made her sad.

Nestled safely between Kim's shirts, Ron's grin almost seemed alive.

* * *

You may not have noticed, by the way, a sentence in this chapter remarkably similar to one in 'A Moment Of Regret'. That was completely intentional. If you caught it, good job! I bringeth praise and virtual hugs :)


	3. On The Job

Hokay, I know I've been gone a long time. I'm a little rusty at this, actually. The prose didn't flow from my head as much this time :( Art school and my friends and my boyfriend are just distracting. The fruits of my labour: my worst grade was for 2D Design 1, and it was an A- :D Tell me to my face that's not worth it!!!!!

Anyway. Thanks, Ffordesoon, for acting as quality control and looking it over :)

* * *

Shego sipped her coffee as she waited in the hovercraft. _I hate Mondays._ She gave her head a lacklustre shake. _Think positive._ This was peaceful. This was serene. And hey, Kim was here. Well… not here as in present at this moment (though she was supposed to be). But living with her. And being friends with her, with all the perks that friendship intimated. Hugs and long conversations about nothing and tickle fights and all that jazz. No romance, though. Not yet. Stupid five stages of grief. Oh, and stupid heterosexuality. She shook her head again. _Don't sweat it. Focus on the now._ She took a deep breath. All she could hear was the reassuring baritone thrum of the engine. All she could think about was her comfortable, inviting bed. And who wasn't in it. She honked the horn another time. What the hell was taking Kimmie so long?

Finally, the girl bounded out the lobby doors and hopped into the vehicle. The pleasant scent of shampoo gently nudged Shego in the face. "Sorry, so sorry," she chirped. "I brought you a cinnamon roll…"

Shego grunted her gratitude, took a bite, and off they went. The great thing about taking the hovercraft to work was that she could miss the morning commute on the roads. And flying out of the city was always a relief. All that pollution was just _stressful_ sometimes.

Forty-five minutes, a mountain ridge and two sizeable forests later, Kim alighted at one of the many secret entrances to that particular lair. She waved at the craft until it flew over the cliff wall and climbed determinedly into the cave. This opening led directly into the ventilation system and was one she had used numerous times before. She tried hard not to think about the paradox of her and her roommate carpooling – so to speak – to work, despite the… _antagonistic_ nature of said work.

Shego was, in contrast, completely unperturbed by the contradiction. Work was work and her personal life was her personal life. So she was friends with her work-nemesis outside of work. That was fine. So she happened to be giving her friend a lift to work (despite the inconvenience it imposed on her job). That was fine, too. Hell, she _wanted_ Kim to be there. Her encounters with Kimmie were the most _thrilling_ part of the job, in her opinion.

Drakken murmured and cackled as he fiddled with his latest doomsday device. He glanced at Shego as she strolled in. "Ah, there you are, Shego! Listen, I need you to give me feedback on my villainous monologue." He pulled a short stack of index cards out of a pocket and began flipping through them. "It just seems to lack _zing_. I don't know what's missing! See, I start off here with the usual clever insults—" Shego snorted. "Then I segue seamlessly into the exposition… there… 'And now, Kim Possible, I have finally bested you'… mhmm…'no match for my superior intellect'… blah blah… 'the world at its knees'…"

Shego exhaled in exasperation. "Whatever, doc. It's not like we're going to make it that far into the routine anyway."

The mad scientist gave a hurt, almost theatrical gasp. With an abnormally tiny hand on his chest, he cried, "You have no faith, Shego! This plan is foolproof. My gauntlets are foolproof—"

"_Your_ gauntlets?" She raised an eyebrow and folded her arms.

Drakken merely sputtered. "Well… Dr. Yang's gauntlets… but they're practically my own invention with what I've added to them!"

"Oh yeah. The flashing lights and coat of electric blue spray paint really, uh, tie the piece together."

It was at that very moment that Kim burst through the vent. "How about I tie you two together for the authorities to jail?"

"KIM POSSIBLE?!"

"Oh, what a surprise. I mean she _never_ comes to stop us." Shego rolled her eyes and charged, her hands alight. "How were the vents, by the way?" she asked casually, flinging a plasma ball at Kim's feet.

"The usual. Dusty. Cold. Dark. It wouldn't kill you guys to scrub it down once in a while," said Kim, somersaulting out of the way and kicking Drakken – who had been scrambling to put on the stolen gauntlets – square in the face. She picked up the invention and managed to yank out a few of the wires connecting it to the surrounding electronics. "It's where you get the air you breathe is all I'm saying." Kim had to drop them to defend herself as Shego, who had managed to run up to her while she was talking, aimed a vicious punch-punch-round house kick combo to her midsection.

Shego sniffed. "Hey, it's not like we're begging you to crawl through there."

"You asked!"

"Whatever. Just being polite, pumpkin. What, your mommy never teach you any manners?"

Kim snorted. "_Aheh_. Sorry. I'm having trouble picturing you and manners within an inch of each other."

A good-natured snarl accompanied Shego's fist – which missed Kim's temple and melted a hole in one of the CPUs the guantlets were hooked up to. "Oh, snap."

The gauntlets, up till this moment lying meekly on the floor, suddenly began sparking. Specifically, the flashing lights that Drakken added began sparking. A strange _electric blue_ forcefield expanded rapidly around them, then exploded. What was left of the gauntlets lay in a small crater, blackened and unsalvageable.

"Ehhh… sorry, Dr. D."

"Nooooooo!" screamed Drakken in ostentatious anguish, ringing his fists powerlessly at nothing in particular. Which was precisely when the shadow of a helicopter hovered over the open skylight of the huge chamber.

"Aaaaand that's my cue," yelled Kim over the thunderous racket. "See you tonight," she nodded at her roommate. Drakken, consumed by an overwhelming urge to curl up in a foetal position and cry, didn't notice. She ran toward the helicopter, pulling out what looked like a portable blowdryer and aiming it at her ride as she went. "Oh, I almost forgot – your turn to do the dishes today, Shego!" She giggled and waved as the grappling blowdryer pulled her through the skylight and into the welcoming 'copter of some indebted pilot.

The villainess just shook her head and grumbled.


	4. Off The Job

"So tell me again how to do this," said Kim nervously.

Shego sighed in exaggerated exasperation. "It's simple, pumpkin. Just stick the spindly, protruding end in _here_ and give it a swirl."

"I can't believe you thought this would be a good idea."

"_You're_ the one who's been whining for the past _week_ about trying it out!"

"Maybe we should've started with something simpler…"

"This is as easy as it gets. Trust me. Now _c'mon_, cupcake. You can do anything. That's it… thaaaat's it… right _there_."

"How am I doing?"

"So far so good."

"I'm doing it! I'm doing it!"

"_Mmmm_. Now do it clockwise at an eighty degree angle, and… _Perfect_. Congratulations. I proclaim thee officially capable of whisking cookie batter. See? That wasn't so hard, was it?"

"That was _awesome_! What's next?"

"Baby steps, pumpkin. Baby steps."

Kim leapt at Shego, her arms extended for an excited hug, her mouth emitting enthusiastic "_thank you!_"s.

Shego couldn't remember a time she felt more at ease. The afternoon sun was shining languidly through the apartment windows. The kitchen radio, set stolidly beside them on the counter, whined an upbeat tune. And Kimmie was right where she wanted her: in her arms squealing.

Well. Not the way she wanted her to be squealing. But still. As she had told the pumpkin, baby steps. Shego chuckled and gently pried Kim off her person. "It's not over yet. We still have to, y'know, _bake_ the cookies. Amongst other things."

"Couldn't we just call it a day now when things are going so well?" Kim looked up at Shego pathetically. Shego stared incredulously right back at her.

"C'mon, princess! This'll be a piece of cake. So to speak."

Thirty very trying minutes later, a frazzled Shego slipped a pan of cookies – well, "cookies" – into the oven. The previously immaculate kitchen, now marred with a surfeit of cookie dough stains and, strangely enough, _scorch marks_, was silent as she shut the oven door and pressed the appropriate buttons. Shego slumped to the floor against the oven rubbing her temples gently.

Kim sat down gingerly beside her. On the verge of saying something, _anything_ to break the tense silence, she opened and closed her mouth a few times.

"For what it's worth, dripping cookie batter circles is _a lot_ harder than it looks," Kim finally mumbled.

Shego exhaled loudly through her teeth… and began chuckling. Kim heaved a sigh of relief before joining in.

"So, um… sorry about the kitchen. I'll clean it all up, I swear!"

Shego brushed herself off and got to her feet. "Uh, you _better_!"

"I _told_ you something horrific was going to happen. That's just how it is with me and all things culinary," Kim snorted as she loaded the dishwasher. "We should've stopped while the going was good."

"At least we have a batch of delicious baked goods in recompense," murmured Shego, a crooked smile resting lazily on her face as she leant against the oven. A mischievous thought popped into her head as Kim rinsed and squeezed a rag and began wiping off some of the stains near the sink. She swabbed some of the spilt flour on the countertop with a finger. "Kimmie? You, uh, you missed a spot."

Kim tilted her head. "Oh, really? Where?"

"Right _here_," snickered Shego as she smeared the white substance under Kim's nose. A snort (or five) of laughter promptly spurted from her mouth. Man, the expression on the pumpkin's face was _priceless_! "Better lay off the crack, cupcake. I think it's fried your brain."

"Oh, no you didn't," said Kimmie, before grabbing a handful of chocolate chips and anointing her friend with it.

"You have just woken a sleeping bear," Shego growled in jest as she flung sticky pieces of eggshell at her enemy. Kim's reply was non-verbal: an egg smushed and dribbling down the middle of Shego's sternum.

The next five minutes were a blur of laughter and flying ingredients.

Shego slumped against the island counter, panting hard. She waved a flour-white hand as high as she could. "Truce," she wheezed out.

An equally exhausted "Truce" sounded right above her, just as a squidgy, egg-white daubed hand grabbed hers, squeezed, and let go. Shego's face betrayed nothing of the jolt of adrenaline that had suddenly jostled at her heart. Well… her mouth may have quirked a little. Maybe. That's it. She definitely wasn't _blushing_ or anything. No, really.

Fortunately, Kimmie couldn't see her face, perched on the island counter as she was. Shego cleared her throat. "Well, I guess this means I'll be helping you with the sanitising." She grabbed a mop and bucket.

"D'you still think that one batch of cookies provides sufficient recompense?"

"Mehhh… You can't bake a cake without breaking a few eggs. Or, well, in this case, you can't bake some cookies without sullying my entire kitchen."

Kim snorted. "The next time you feel the urge to teach me a useful survival skill, please remember this incident."

"But Kimmie! Who's going to make me delicious baked goods when I'm all old and decrepit?!"

The hero stopped in the middle of her cleaning and looked at her. "You really think we're gonna stay friends until we're old and decrepit?"

Shego paused inscrutably. "I think we'll, uh, be together until _I_ am old and decrepit. By the time _you're_ doddering about, I may very well be dead," she teased.

"Aww, c'mon, you're not _that_ much older than me!" scoffed Kim.

"Seven years is a large gap, princess. That's, like, almost a decade! In any case, we might not even live long enough to join the elderly. People in our line of work tend not to last very long. And there's always going to be someone younger, someone better… You can't stay at the top forever. Even if you _are_ comet-powered and incredibly limber."

"Ngeh… I didn't know you were such a pessimist."

"It's called being a realist," said Shego, resuming her mopping. "And it's better than looking at the world through rose-tinted glasses and having unreal expectations that are bound to be disappointed."

"But… but… anything's possible for a Possible!"

Shego groaned. "For a second there, I forgot who I was talking to."

"Heh… you sound like you think I'm a Disney princess or something."

"Well, hey. If she's pretty like a Disney princess, and she's perky like a Disney princess, and I call her 'princess'… Hell, I bet no one would notice if you replaced that girl in that movie _Enchanted_!"

"Y'know, I _have_ always wanted to have animals do my bidding…" Kim began skipping around in an unnervingly accurate caricature of Giselle, complete with animal calls and coy giggles. Then, pausing suddenly in mid-bounce and effecting an exaggerated swoon, "oh, and to be assured a happy ending…"

"She didn't exactly have the most _conventional_ happy ending."

Kim sniffed. "Prince Charming was kind of bland anyway. I'd much rather the jaded and fallible McDreamy."

Shego was in a good mood for the rest of the week.


End file.
